


Little Shit's Day In

by a_xmasmurder



Series: Bucky Barnes Finds a Friend [6]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Animal Angst, Animal emotions, Bucky Barnes finds a Friend, Cat POV, Cats, Cats don't know the word for fridge, Gen, Giving animals emotions, Little Shit is a Nurse and Warden, Pets, Special Fur is needed, mention of injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 07:40:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3439085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_xmasmurder/pseuds/a_xmasmurder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A day in the life of a kitten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Shit's Day In

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pangodillO](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pangodillO/gifts).



> I don't even fucking know anymore, okay? I have not made good life choices.

Sounds. Noise.

Little Shit (that’s her name, she knows that. She’s not sure why Strange Metal Arm Human calls her that, but she goes with it) opens her eyes, unhappy about being woken from her nap. Things are happening around her, as usual.

She lifts her head and sees her person putting on his black armless special fur. Tall Blonde Big Human and Human with Pointy Sticks are standing in the opening to her room, making noise at her person. They have their special fur on too, colorful fur that protects them from things that make loud noises and hurts them. Her person has explained what his fur does, and she’s tried to tell him that she wants that special fur too, but he smiles at her and pats her head when she does. Something tells her that he doesn’t understand the necessity of special fur.

She needs it so that she can kill the evil imposter living in the room that food is kept in.

She continues watching as her person attaches pointy things and round things that make noise around his fur, then picks up the long metal thing that he was pointing at a building when she found him. It’s in a black box, but she knows it’s the thing. ‘Gun’, her person calls it. Someone makes more noise outside her room, and Metal Suit Human sticks his head in. The other two nod their heads at him, and her person makes a rude gesture with his metal hand. She likes that hand. It’s shiny and always warm.

She gets up from her warm nest on their bed and walk over to her person. “Hey! I’m awake. I want you to pet me. I could also use some food.” Her person smiles at her, not showing his teeth. His mouth moves, and she hears her name. “Yes! Food and petting. Now?”

He picks up his bag and his gun, and waves at her as all three leave her room. She’s left standing on their big bed. Well, shit. She sits down on her haunches and bathes herself because it’s been a while since the last time. _Bored already_. She wants her person to come back so she can chew on his normal fur, the stuff on his head. It always tastes interesting to her. She flops backwards on the soft covers and sighs. _Bored. Bored bored bor- Oh!_ There’s something shiny on the ceiling. It swings back and forth as she watches it, her tail twitching with it. _I wonder how close it will come. I’d like to catch it. Bet it tastes good._ Alas, the shiny on the ceiling does not come down. Second disappointment of the day. _Today is going to suck. Worst day ever._ Little Shit leaps down onto the floor and goes to her food dish in the hallway. She won’t eat in the room that food is kept anymore, not since Human with Pointy Sticks and Red-Furred Human brought that imposter here. Damn thing. Damn damnable thing. She’s going to kill it one day. Just wait.

Oh, joyous day! There’s food in the bowl! And cold water! She splashes some water out of the bowl and onto the dry kibble because she’s seen her person pour white water on his dry kibble once. She doesn’t know what this white water is, but when he gave her a bite it was good. So it stands to reason… She takes a bite. _Hm. No. This is not good. In fact, it’s horrid. I hate it._ She eats it anyway. There’s no guarantee there will be more coming. ‘Eat it while it’s there’, her mom taught her. She is continually shocked when her bowl never seems to be empty in her new home. But she lives by this rule, and it seems her person does too. She’s seen him make something and make funny faces while he eats it anyway. She resolves to make him something one day, once she figures out how the people make the black and metal thing between the thing that makes water and the thing that always has good smelling food work. Of course, she could always catch something outside and bring it for him. He can figure out how to make it the way he likes it.  _I wonder if he likes meat with tails or feathers better?_

She finishes her food and wanders over to the good smelling food box thing and tries to pry it open. _Well, that’s not working._ She loses interest when she spies the damnable thing. _IMPOSTER_. She growls at it. _IT MUST DIE TODAY_.

It stares at her.

She stares right back at it. She’s not backing down. She can’t back down. This is for honor. Territory. The love of her person, and for _glory_. She hisses menacingly.

It stares at her.

 _Oh no. This isn’t going to work. Intimidation doesn’t work on the imposter. I have to resort to desperate measures._ She stiff-legs over, careful to watch for any signs that the imposter is going to attack.

It stares at her.

She yowls. “I will kill you.”

It stares at her.

She gets close enough to see her reflection in its beady black eyes. Gateways to the soul, her mother always said. Her person says the same thing, when he’s looking at the Tall Blonde Big Human. Well, this imposter is straight from the mouth of Hell. She shivers and backs away for a moment. What she wouldn’t give for the special fur. She didn’t plan on confronting the imposter today, but here she is. She’s got to something. She inches back over.

It stares at her.

She shakes, reaches out a paw, claws extended.

It stares at her.

One claw touches the imposter on the face, hooks into its cold soft skin.

It stares at her.

 _It doesn’t feel pain. Damnable thing from Hell...I WILL DESTROY_ \- She pulls her paw back, thinking of going to see what sort of metal things her person has that could do damage.

The imposter comes with her paw.

“OHHELLNOOMGNONONONONONGETOFFMEGETOFFMEHELPJESUSCHRISTHELPMENONONONONONONONONONONONOOOOOOO!”

She nearly turns herself inside out to get away from the attacking imposter. It tricked her. Led her into a false sense of security with its non-movement. And now it’s going to kill her. After she finally extricates herself from it, she retreats, constantly looking over her shoulder to make sure it isn’t following her. She runs into the wall in the hallway and a table by the big comfy chair in the big room doing this, but she doesn’t care. She wants away from the imposter. She scrambles beneath the chair and waits for it to come around the corner.

It doesn’t.

She falls asleep waiting for it to make its attack.

**  
  
  
**

The sound of the door opening wakes her up, and she darts out of cover to tell her person about the imposter and how she either needs a massive metal thing to drop on its head or special skin so that she doesn’t -

Oh.

Oh _no_.

Her person staggers over to the bigger comfy chair (he calls it a 'sofa', whatever that means) assisted by Human With Wings and Red-Furred Human. He’s covered in red stuff that smells like fire and the shiny metal not-noisy round things that she would find on the floor and collect under the bed. She can smell the distress of the two with him, and she yowls out her own worry. She’s small enough that she can sneak between their legs and hop up on the sofa next to her person. She can hear his breathing. It sounds like when her mother had been hit by the Big Metal Thing that Has Wheels, all wet and crackly like fall leaves after a storm. His metal arm has black and red all over it, and she tries to lick it away.

Her person pants and makes noises at her. His warm skin hand reaches over and pushes her away. She thinks she understands “Don’t.” He says that when she does something he doesn’t approve of, like stealing his foot furs and burying them under the big thing that holds water in the room that has lots of stone tile and metal. She doesn’t like that word, so she ignores him.

She ignores the pained noise he makes when Red-Furred Person presses down on his not-metal shoulder, too. Wait. No, take that back. She doesn’t ignore that noise because it is a bad noise and she doesn't like bad noises. She lashes out and scratches Red-Furred Human for making her person make that noise. Red-Furred Human makes a hissing noise, but presses harder. Little Shit scratches her harder.

“Little Shit,” her person whispers. She goes back to trying to clean him up. He’ll be fine, she just has to clean him. Her mom did that to her when she got mud all over her. He did it to her when she fell into the bowl of funny sweet stuff and knocked over the flowers trying to get out. Well, he did it to her after she thought he was going to hurt her for breaking the flowers and hurt him instead.

No. He’ll be fine. She just has to clean him. She makes more noises at him, trying to comfort him as Red-Furred Human keeps hurting him. She alternates between scratching her and licking him. Scratching and licking. Scratching and -

There’s a hand at the scruff of her neck, and it’s not her person. She twists and yowls, but the hand stays. A warm blanket wraps around her, and she’s being held like a human baby by Human with Pointy Sticks.

Red-Furred Human says something that makes her person smile in a funny way. She’s ignoring the red running off her leg and arm, and Little Shit sees now that they are all dirty and hurt. She hisses with distress, worried about them all now. _What happened to them? How did it happen? Did her person get hit by a thing? I can't believe this! I'm never letting him out of my sight ever again. Ever._

**  
  
  
  
**

Bucky wakes up in the morning feeling like boiled potatoes and mystery meat.

In France. During the war.

“Oh my god, my head.” He remembered a train. Falling. Oh, wait. Wrong memory. He filters through his brain and pulls up the right memory. Hilarious. There’s still a train, but there was no falling involved. What was involved was the S.H.I.E.L.D. vehicle he was driving being fucking t-boned by one. He groans and grabs his phone off the bedside table, stabbing it a couple times with his normal hand, then puts it on speaker.

Clint picks up on the second ring. “Barton.”

“How’ya feelin’, punk?” Bucky winces as he stretches. There’s more broken things in his body than he knew names for. Damn it, he hates trains. Little Shit is a comforting presence on his chest, but the pull of the gauze over his wounded shoulder reminds him that he’s feeling like shit for a reason.

“Like I got hit by a train.”

Bucky snorts. “Well, you're not wrong. Better than falling from one, though.” And yeah, if he can joke about it, then he’s healing from it, right? He tries to get up, but Little Shit bats him on the nose. Hard. “What the hell?”

“What’s wrong?” Clint’s got his worried Agent voice going, and in the background Bucky can hear Natasha stirring. He wonders if Steve crashed there, too. He and Nat have been getting much closer over the last few weeks. Bucky notices these things.

“The cat won’t get off me.” He tries prying her off with his metal hand, since it is the only one not occupied. Little Shit hisses quietly and digs her claws into the gauze. “Okay, okay. I’m not going to get up. I’ll piss in the bed like you do.” He huffs. “Damn cat.”

Clint grunts. “Well, Nat isn’t letting me leave the bed, and Steve’s giving me the side-eye - c’mon, I wasn’t seriously gonna get up! I have a broken clavicle, I can’t do shit right now!” He sighs. “So we are in the same boat, brother.”

Bucky grins. Well, that puts paid to the rumor that Steve and Natasha are probably making it together. Stranger things have happened. Then he winces again. Little Shit has taken up a spot on his sternum and is staring down at him with blue eyes starting to shift to a sea green with age. “Cat. That’s broken. Healing, but broken. Stop sitting on it.”

“Mreooooooow.” She settles into a bun and continues to stare at him.

“Clint. I really think this cat isn’t going to let me out of bed.”

**  
  
**


End file.
